Night Watchers
by veiledbride
Summary: Voldemort won the final battle, but a resistance rises to stop him. The Order is gone, but this group watches from the darkness. They have a plan, and when a stranger arrives, they just might return the world to the way its supposed to be
1. Chapter 1

Welcome newcomers and old readers! This is a rewritten version of the same story. I hit a roadblock in my writing, thus the long wait between chapters. so changes had to be made. I hope you enjoy Night Watchers. The characters may seem out of character, but there is a reason for it so stick around to find out! I don't own anything that JK Rowling created.

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Two cloaked figures were crouched behind a large boulder in a densely wooded area just to the side of a dark, abandoned road. There was a dense fog that was settling in around them, preventing them from having their usually good view of their surroundings. The forest around them seemed too quiet. No owls hooted or leaves rustled. It had once been a place full of wildlife, but they seemed to have moved on, searching for refuge elsewhere. The two Night Watchers seemed to be the only living things for miles, but that didn't seem to bother them. In fact, they liked it best this way. A slight breeze suddenly picked up, chilling the two spies. The taller of the two shifted slightly away from the safety of the boulder, trying to get out of the way of the wind.

Settling into a more comfortable position, the taller relaxed into a diligent state. The goal of the night was to stay as quiet and still as you possibly good in case someone passed along the road. He'd only done it every few night for the past two years. He was about to whisper something to his partner, but the popping sound of wheels on gravel made him think again. The two shadows barely breathed as they listened to the sound creep closer towards them. As it got louder, the man realized there were at least three separate vehicles, most likely carriages, just at the bottom of the hill. They were swiftly approaching the area where the two were hiding. The spies were impossible to see, so they knew they were safe, but it didn't make them feel like they were at all safe.

As the sounds got louder, the shorter of the two tensed, waiting to spring at a moments notice. The taller put his hand on his partners shoulder as a sign to relax, just as he peered over the top of the boulder. A soft glowing crept along the road, moving ahead of the carriages as if announcing their presence to the dark world ahead. The light slowly made its way towards the hiding spot of the two spies, the taller quickly ducking back down just as the light was breaking around the boulder. The thundering of the carriages reached a fever pitch as three horseless carriages passed the hiding spot. As soon as the backend of the last carriage was out of sight, the woman sighed with relief. That was the most exciting thing that had happened in months. Most people would say a few carriages along a road was nothing, but the thing was, no one ever came that way. There weren't that many people around anymore to even want to come that way. The last people they had seen around this area had been a group of lost teenagers that had somehow managed to make it this far north. Even that had to have been six months earlier. Now to have three carriages going past. Something was happening.

The man made a move to stand up when his partners hand grabbed his arm. Turning to her, he saw her barely shake her head, and had he not been expecting it, heard her whisper as quietly as exhaling. "Listen."

He strained his ears against the quiet. He could just make out the soft popping of more wheels. They barely breathed as they waited for the carriages to get closer. After what seemed an eternity, several more well lit carriages thundered past their hiding spot. As they passed, the tall spy counted on his fingers. Six. Nine carriages had passed in a matter of minutes. Something was definitely happening.

When the last carriage had passed, they waited several more minutes just to make sure no one else was approaching. The little spy tugged on the sleeve of her partner, indicating that the coast was clear. They carefully crept away from their hiding spot, slithering through the darkness until they reached a clearing with several burnt looking trees. They leapt over a rotting tree carcass, and disappeared into an even darker section of the forest. At this point, they were comfortable in sprinting though the forest, jumping over roots and veering around rocks.

They slowed their pace as they reached a large, dark pond. When they arrived, they went to the edge of the pond, where two small ferns stood a few feet from each other. The woman removed a small coin from her robes. She placed it into an almost unperceivable indent on the ground, pressing it firmly into place. Righting herself, she then waved her wand in a complex pattern while her partner waited. A light blue ball flew out of the tip of her wand, and shot forward. Suddenly, a campsite that had not been there previously could be seen across the pond and a bridge had sprung up before them. The two spies climbed onto the bridge, with the little one picking up her coin from behind them. To any outsider, the bridge and camp had suddenly vanished as quickly as it had appeared. In reality, a clever series of enchantments was keeping a small group of survivors safe.

As they crossed the bridge, the tallest of the two threw off his hood, revealing a weary Dean Thomas. "What are we going to say?" he asked the newly revealed Ginny Weasley.

"Exactly what we saw. Nine carriages went past. What else did you think we were going to say?" she replied, annoyed by such a question.

Dean made to say something else but decided against it. He knew that would only end poorly for him. The two headed towards the largest and best lit tent in the centre of the area. A large fire was burning in the middle of the camp, with a few dark shadows sitting around it. They passed by without stopping to talk to anyone at the fire. They had a job to be done. They reached the tent and Dean pulled the canvas flap aside, allowing his partner to enter first. Five sets of eyes grouped at the end of the tent shot up at the arrival of the new guests. Hermione Granger sat at the head of a long rectangular table. Kingsley Shacklebolt sat to her right, with Bill Weasley beside him. To her left sat a bored Ron Weasley and a tired Neville Longbottom. A tea set sat between them on the table, the remains of dinner plates staked before them. A small doorway stood behind the group, gentle clanging emerging from within. Hermione looked down at her watch and frowned. "Your watch isn't supposed to be over for another hour."

Ginny grimaced at her. "Something's happening. Nine carriages passed by about ten minutes ago."

The group sitting around the table seemed to come to life at her statement.

Hermione looked skeptical. "Carriages? If they were wizards, they would have apparated where they needed to. You probably saw muggle survivors."

However, her skepticism was squashed by a cacophony of questions that drowned out what she had said .

"How many were there?" Ron asked.

"Where were they headed?" Neville queried.

"Did you see who was inside them?" asked Kingsley.

Dean shook his head, trying his best to answer everyone's questions. "We were hiding so we couldn't get the best look. Plus their lights were strong. They definitely would have seen us. But we saw three initially, and then a couple minutes later six more came by. They were like the ones at Hogwarts though. There was nothing pulling them. They could have held a lot of people, but there were probably only one or two people in a carriage. They were in a hurry to get wherever they were going though. There's no way we could have known where they were going."

Kingsley sat back in his chair, his fingers steepled under his chin, a look of deep contemplation on his face.

"We should wait for Seamus and Parvati to come back," Bill said. "Maybe they saw them pass on their end. It's probably more likely that whoever they were, they were headed around the bend and back to London. No one goes North anymore, so it's likely they were going back to the city." Neville nodded in agreement. Ron sat quietly, tipping his chair back. He simply shrugged when Bill looked over at him. Hermione on the other hand looked annoyed by Bill's assessment.

"We all know what's up in the north. There is every chance that's where they are going! Maybe something has changed. Seamus and Parvati likely won't have seen anything. They were headed into the village tonight for supplies. We won't know anything more about the carriages."

She gestured angrily over to Dean and Ginny. "These two didn't stay in their position for their designated time! There might have been more carriages coming, but now we won't know that! Plus, you've left that area unprotected," Hermione vented. "You know that you need to keep watch! What if someone saw you leave? They could have followed you!"

An incredulous look passed over Ginny's face. Her mouth dropped open. All the men in the tent knew a battle was brewing.

"Are you serious?" Ginny cried. "You're upset that we came and gave you some of the biggest news we've had in months, and all you can say is 'you should have gotten more'!? Plus there's no way anyone could have followed us. We're not complete idiots."

Dean backed away from Ginny, and mumbled something about being hungry. He headed to the back of the tent and disappeared into what was obviously the kitchen.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Ginny. "Oh thank you for finding out something we knew could have happened!" she exclaimed sarcastically. "You did a great job stating the obvious! It's not like you provided us with any information of who was in the carriages or where exactly they were going!"

Ginny's cheeks were burning a furious red at this point. "What did want us to do? Stop the carriages and knock on the door? 'Excuse me, could you tell me who's in your party and where you're headed? The resistance would like to know?' That would have gone over well!"

The men in the tent seemed transfixed at the word battle occurring between the two women. As Hermione and Ginny yelled at each other, their heads swiveled back and forth like they were watching some sort of demented ping-pong game.

Hermione seemed to be trying to maintain what little composure she had, but she was doing a poor job. She rose from her chair, waving her arms about. "I expect you to find out as much information about any activity before you report back! Why is tonight different than any other look out?" Hermione was panting as her voice increased in volume "You have the whole east quarter to monitor. You could have followed the carriages until the fork in the road."

Ginny's face flushed scarlet. There had been so little activity over the past few months that this news should have been celebrated, not the cause of s vicious fight. Ginny was so mad, she was visibly shaking and incapable of forming a decent thought.

Hermione smirked, knowing she had hit a sore spot. "It's likely they were going to the Manor. You had the ability to go and make sure. But instead, you come here and told us nothing of real use. I think we're done here."

The tension between the two women seemed to crackle in the air. Ginny opened her mouth to respond, fury glimmering on her face. She never got the chance to defend herself though, as Kingsley's calm deep voice interrupted her, breaking the spell that had held the tent captive. "Enough! Enough. Ginny, why don't you go join Dean for something to eat. You've been on duty a long time, you must be hungry."

Ginny seemed rooted to her spot for several seconds, glaring at Hermione.

"He's right Ginny," Bill said. "Go get something to eat. There's no need to stay around here."

Ginny turned to her oldest brother. He had a frown on his face, clearly unhappy with the current situation. Ginny knew it was not in her best interest to fight with him. He was normally very calm-headed but could be just as stubborn as she was. She reluctantly stomped over to the kitchen, all the while glaring at Hermione, who very pointedly faced forward avoiding her gaze. Once she was gone, Bill turned to Hermione.

"Was that really necessary? That didn't accomplish anything."

"They came back with a major sighting and didn't even think to investigate further. How should I have dealt with it Bill? Told them they were excellent tonight. We're at war! No one gets off easy anymore!"

Clearly, Bill disagreed with Hermione, based on the look on his face.

"Fine! Be happy about our useless information! Let's celebrate mediocrity and survive in this crappy world just scraping by. I guess I'll be the only one who is angry about this!" Hermione sputtered.

Kingsley felt it was time to put this to rest. "Be fair, Hermione. I know that you and Ginny have your differences and don't see eye to eye anymore. But you need to put that aside. There is a time and a place and this is not it. I know that you're mad about her and Dean not finding out more, but they did what they thought was right. And that was to come back here and to tell us what was happening as soon as it happened. I too wish they had found out more, but now we can act on their tip. We should be focusing on that and not on how much the two of you hate each other."

Kingsley's words resonated throughout the tent. They had to focus. They did have a task they had to complete, and they needed each other if they were going to be successful.

Hermione looked slightly cowed after Kingsley's rebuke. However, Ron knew that there was a fury brewing within Hermione. She simply sat back in her seat and folded her arms.

"Should we send out someone to try and find out what's happening?" Neville asked tentatively.

There was a thoughtful silence. Bill slowly nodded his head. "I think maybe we should. I'll go. Maybe I can get Anton to come with me. He's a decent tracker."

"Thanks Bill," Kingsley said.

Bill got up from his chair and left the tent. Neville yawned loudly. "I think we should all get some rest. Things might get interesting and we'll need to be well rested," Kingsley said in response to Neville's yawn. He stood up and looked at the door at the back. "I think I'll go see if I can get some tea before bed…." he said as he wandered to the kitchen.

Hermione sat in her chair in the same tight position. Neville looked between her and Ron, who was staring at Hermione intently. "I guess I'll just leave the two of you alone then…" he said awkwardly as he stood and put his chair away. "Night."

When the two of them were finally alone, Hermione looked over at Ron and frowned.

"What?! I don't need you to give me that look," she snapped.

"Are you mad!? You were way over the line. You're the one who says we all need to stick together, and here you are going mental!"

Hermione glared at him. "What should I have done then? Thanked them for giving us nothing usable. Ginny and Dean were wrong. We can't afford to make mistakes. If there are Death Eaters at our door, we are in serious danger. But we don't know anything."

Ron was silent. He knew he was not going to win this argument. He had no desire to fight with Hermione tonight. He admired her dedication to protecting those around her, but he missed the compassion and understanding she used to possess. No matter how wrong she was in this situation, he was not going to change her mind. He quietly got up and left the tent, leaving Hermione alone with her thoughts.

As Ron left the tent, he saw Dean leave the back of the tent, holding the last few bites of toast. He waved to Ron, who stopped for him to catch up.

"Well that was a cheery meeting tonight wasn't it?" he said.

Ron gave a harsh laugh. "I'd love to see what you think a bad one is like."

Dean chuckled. "You should have heard Ginny when she came to the back. Man can that girl swear."

"Yeah, well with that many brothers in the house she was bound to pick up some decent words." Ron said darkly.

As they walked towards their respective tents, they passed the central fire pit in the middle of the camp. Neville hustled over to them, intent on talking to them about the meeting.

"Was anyone else uncomfortable at the meeting?"Neville asked.

Dean laughed. "Funny you should mention that…. We were just discussing Ginny's excellent vocabulary."

"I mean we've seen them fight before, but it seems they're fighting more frequently." Hermione and Ginny's fights had become legendary in the camp and the go to topic that everyone discussed when gossip was low.

Dean just shrugged and turned to Ron. "Don't you know anything? You're the closest to them."

Ron looked at him uncomfortably. "I don't know. It's not really any of our business," he muttered, a little too quickly to be believable. They had reached their tents, and Ron hastily bid the other two a falsely cheerful "Good Night!" before rushing into his tent.

Neville looked over at Dean, who had a funny expression on his face. "He totally knows something, doesn't he?"

"Oh definitely," Dean replied as he entered his tent, leaving Neville alone in the dark.

_Meanwhile….._

The popping of carriage tires on gravel came to a halt as they circled around the driveway of a decrepit manor. It had obviously once been a stately home, but years of neglect had left the brick crumbling and vines the master of the home. Several shadowy hooded figures emerged from their carriages at the same time, and silently walked towards the front door.

A burly figure pushed open the door with the slightest touch, leading the way into the cold and dark manor. His colleagues followed him into the house, the door creaking shut behind them. The manor was as icy as winter, and the visitors could see their own breath swirl around them. The house had once been quite handsome, with lavish furnishings still visible in the lobby of the house. It was obvious that whoever had once owned the home had abandoned it and the house had simply fallen into disuse, making it all the more useful for a secretive meeting place.

The group silently moved to a room at the back of the entrance hall, between the double staircase that led to an upper balcony. A pale light flickered from inside the room. Inside, a pale blue fire was lit in a huge stone grate, but it threw no heat towards the visitors as they entered into the room. A single chair sat in front of the fire, like a throne in the middle of a royal chamber. There was no regal feeling in this once magnificent room, but there was an indescribable darkness that lingered in the room.

"Well….." came a cold voice from the chair.

All the hooded figures dropped to their knees, despite the fact that whoever sat in the chair could not see them. One figure stood up and stepped forward.

"My lord, we have news that our forces have taken over the French and German ministries. They have pledged their loyalties to you, my lord," said the hooded figure, who stood in the center of room.

"That is not what I expected to hear, Macnair….." came the stinging reply. "I expected to be seeing a certain…. guest of mine arrive with you."

The Death Eater quivered with fear. "My lord, I thought you would be pleased to hear about your victory abroad before we told you about the prisoner. I….."

"You thought wrong," said the voice. "Either you have found him or you have not. I do not need you to tell me news I am already well aware of."

"S-s-so sorry, my lord. Of course you knew!"came Macnair's stuttering reply. "We are looking. He was spotted just outside the city. Some of us are out there right now looking for him."

There was nothing but a deadly silence that followed. "M-m-my Lord?"

"Lies are the only thing that you are sufficient at Macnair. I know you have no one looking. You have failed."

A tremor struck the group. They had failed in their task, and that meant a punishment that would surely kill them all. As they stood with heads bowed, they waited for true pain and suffering. To their great surprise however, it never came. Instead, the cold high voice of Lord Voldemort pierced the silence.

"Go find the man that your incompetence lost. Now."

The Death Eaters scrambled out of the room as quickly as possible, surprised by the fact they were leaving the manor alive. Macnair took up the rear, and as he was almost over the threshold and into the safety of the hall, Voldemort's voice followed him out.

"Know this Macnair. You are all alive because it is hard to find help in these times. But know that if you fail me again, I will not hesitate to kill every last one of you."

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Thanks for reading! I want to thank those who reviewed and put Night Watchers on story alert. I greatly appreciate it!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 3

March 27, 2000-London

The night was cold, and the misty fog gave the few working street lights a blurry, muted feel. Blaise Zabini walked swiftly along the river, his cloak swirling around his ankles. God he hated spring nights. Actually, he hated most nights. He pulled his cloak tighter around his neck as he passed the twisted frame of what was the London Eye. He could hear the water lapping against the rusted remains of the wheel in the Thames. He was struck by the memory of the giants climbing it like it was a jungle gym, before it crashed into the river under their weight.

A shiver racked his body as he approached the bridge that would lead him to the Parliament buildings. He looked at the buildings eerie glow, and could just make out the smoke and ash of the fires burning around the city. There were so many these days that no one bothered putting them out anymore. Besides, Blaise thought, where would the thousands of homeless muggles get their heat from?

He had finally made his way to the crumbling bridge. The moment he stepped on it, he was accosted by a filthy woman who had been crouching at the base of a burnt out lamp post. She grabbed onto his sleeve, and Blaise pulled back in shock when her face suddenly appeared inches from his. She looked underfed and desperate, a dead look visible in her light blue eyes. "Please…Please…sir, you have to help…my friend…please…"

"Get off me you filthy bitch!" Blaise pushed her away, where she fell onto her back, tears filling her eyes. Blaise kept walking, hoping she wouldn't follow. However, she slowly climbed to her feet, and ran after his retreating form. "You don't understand," she sobbed. "Y-y-you have to help…he's dying…p-p-please…" She threw herself onto Blaise, knocking him off his feet.

They fell to the ground, and he struggled to get the woman off of him, as she sobbed onto his chest. He finally managed to roll her off him and onto the ground, where she rolled into a small ball. He clambered back to his feet, brushing the dirt off his cloak. He looked down at the pitiful sight below, a scowl on his face. "You're lucky you didn't rip my cloak, woman!" Blaise looked down at the woman in disgust. "Pathetic…" The woman continued to sob, moaning into her sleeves.

Blaise started to walk away without a glance back at the whimpering woman. "What has this world come to?" he thought to himself. "A man can't walk without being accosted by the filth of the world." He continued to walk towards his destination, hoping no one else would come begging for money or help on the bridge that had been deemed 'Beggars Bridge.' He hated walking on it, but it was the only way to reach the parliament buildings without having to walk through the burning, disease ridden city that surrounded the Parliament buildings, the new Ministry of Magic building.

He snorted at the thought of some sort of government. No one was fooled by the façade that had been put in place. There was no government running Britain. If anything, anarchy ruled the state now. When Potter had lost, it hadn't taken long before everything had fallen apart. The 'accidental' death of the muggle prime minister had resulted in the installation of the deputy prime minister, Magnus Goldwater. As any good Death Eater would, Goldwater handed the country over to Voldemort, and the destruction of Britain began. It had all happened so fast that there was no chance for anyone to stop it. The rest of the world was fed false images of the "riots," but they had no idea of what was really happening.

Blaise recalled the destruction of London, remembering the initial fighting. The muggles thought they could win back their country with those silly shooting machines, but they quickly realized they were no match for the Death Eaters and their army of creatures. Blaise shuddered as he vividly remembered the screams and the smell of burning flesh. He still had nightmares, even though he was no fan of the muggle population. There was only so much death and destruction a person could take.

He shook his head, breaking out of his reverie and remembered the reason he was here in the first place. He continued over the bridge, suddenly becoming aware of the shadows that crept towards him as he walked. He pulled out his wand and cast a quick shield charm, protecting him from the thieves who frequented the bridge. God, he hated that Goldwater liked having meetings at such ungodly hours. Why they had to meet at one in the morning as opposed to one in the afternoon was beyond him. There was a rumour the Minister was a vampire, but nowadays no one really cared.

Blaise had finally reached the entrance to the Ministry, and waved his wand along a hidden door in the side of the building, listening for the unlocking of the bolts. When he had finished, he pushed open the scorched door, and entered into a small chamber. A small mousy woman sat at a small, desk stirring a cup of tea. She looked up and offered Blaise a smile. "He's waiting for you," she said. Blaise barely gave her a glance as he strode past her, knocking on the door to her left.

A gravelly voice answered. "Come in." Blaise opened the door, and found a rather squat little man with a soft, round face. Magnus Goldwater's face cracked into a grin. He seemed rather jovial for a Death Eater, but he was a nasty man when crossed. He was only still Minister for international appearances. He was just a bridge to help complete Voldemort's plans of domination. Everyone knew he was an expendable pawn, and wouldn't be around for much longer. "Ah Mr. Zabini, I see you got my rather abrupt letter."

Blaise dipped his head in a sort of impromptu bow. "Of course Minister," he replied in a silky voice. "I'm at your disposal whenever you need me."

Goldwater chuckled. "Always a charmer, eh Blaise. But that's why you're our relations man. Always telling people what they want to hear!"

Blaise gave the still chuckling Goldwater a good natured smile. The Minister walked over to his desk, and sat down behind it. "Sit down m'boy, sit down. Can I get you something to drink? No? Just to business then? Alright, well I assume you heard that Mr. Malfoy has returned from Washington?"

Blaise stiffened in his chair. Goldwater looked at him, and raised an eyebrow at Blaise's reaction. "Come now Blaise! Surely you and Draco have gotten over your little spat by now?" Judging by the stony expression on Blaise's face, it had not. Goldwater sighed. "Well I'm sure you'll both come around. What I really need Blaise, is for you and him to work together on a little project for the Americans. They keep asking questions, and we just can't have that. Maybe you could whip up a good little PR boost? Something that would make them see everything is fine?"

Blaise grimaced at the Minister, but nodded his head. "Whatever you need sir. I have some good ideas. Let me see what I can come up with. Is there a time frame?"

The minister looked at him sheepishly. "Thursday if at all possible m'boy. I know that only gives you three days, but I know you of all people can pull it off! I suppose you and Draco will need to meet? I think I can help arrange that."

Blaise gave him a false smile. "Of course sir. Let me see when I'm available…" He reached into his cloak and felt around. A perplexed look flashed across his face. "Where did I put that planner?…" He frantically felt around in his cloak and pockets, finding nothing. "Is there something wrong son?" Goldwater asked.

"No sir, not at all. I must have left it at home that's all." Goldwater looked at him and smiled, eyes crinkling. "No worries my boy! Now, I was thinking of a photoshoot…" Blaise stopped listening, trying to remember where he had put his book. He was sure he had brought it with him… had put it into his left pocket… had felt it on his way over…had it on the bridge…his blood ran cold. "Shit!" He leapt to his feet and rushed to the door, leaving a very confused Goldwater behind him.

_Outside_

As Blaise's footsteps faded away on the bridge, the sobbing woman on the ground opened one eye to make sure he was walking away. When he was out of earshot, she abruptly stopped crying. She immediately jumped to her feet, and quietly skipped off into the darkness.

When she got to the end of the bridge, she silently slipped off to the right and ran along the river until she came to an overturned bus. She slid around the side, where a dark figure sat facing the street. She crept up behind him and tapped his shoulder. His head whipped around. He gasped, and started to cough. "Did you have to scare me like that? I had to choke on a scream!" he hissed.

She giggled. "Sorry…" She pulled out a wand, waving it over her face, vanishing all traces of dirt and hunger from it. He gave her an impish smile. "It's fine. Did you get it?" She nodded. "It was really quite simple you know, but he's not a very nice man. I asked him for help and he said he wouldn't help…even in this terrible time!" Her partner gave her a kind smile and a nod. "Let's get this back so we can stop people like him. Hurry! It's almost time!" With that, he grabbed his partner's hand, and in an instant, they had disappeared.


End file.
